The Adventures of Young Carmen Sandiego
by Mona
Summary: A collection of stories dating to Carmen's detective years. This first entry, "Getting Your Foot in the Door", details her first Acme assignment


"The Adventures of Young Carmen Sandiego"   
  
Author's Note: This is not really a sequel to "Secrets From the Past", but read that story first. It explains who most of the non-canon characters are and their purpose in the stories.   
  
_Getting Your Foot In the Door_  
  
Troilus Dardandell was used to the environment at Acme Headquarters. The unwanted attention of Beatrice Quack, the bizarre criminals, and the awful food at the Cafeteria no longer fazed him. He watched his new raven-haired coworker head down the hall. "Good luck," he whispered. Troilus smiled with nostalgia at his first case. A petty burglar who broke into several grocery stores, stealing only small amounts of money and jugs of milk. Yes, Kitty Larson was one to remember. His eyesight suddenly blurred.   
  
The boon and the curse.   
  
Troilus' first awareness of his gift of prophesy came on his fifth birthday. While he and his sixty-one siblings were playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey when a series of images flashed before him. A beacon gleaming in the fog of San Francisco, a wrecked ship floating on the waves, a blinking eye, a newspaper with a headline reading "TRAITOR!" among many others. The young boy had convulsed, confused as to what was happening. Within a few years, the young semipsychic had learned to control his abilities.   
  
Needless to say, the sudden vision was no shock to the detective. He waited until it was over, then blinked. "Let well enough alone, Carmen."   
  
Carmen Sandiego pried open the door and saluted. "Beginner Carmen Sandiego, reporting for duty."   
  
Inspector Paul Jennings looked up from his desk. "Oh. Another first year." He folded his hand on the large mahogany desk. "I don't know what you've heard about Acme's induction program, but whatever it was, forget it. I aim to start this year off with a clean slate, to make Acme one of the strictest and most efficient crime-stopping networks on the globe. We are at the dawning of a wider epoch, therefore, you must pledge to work to the best of your ability. Understood?"   
  
"Understood," answered Carmen without hesitation.   
  
"Good. I'd like you to help Miss Venetia Ribbons."   
  
As if on cue, a tall woman entered the room. A wide-brimmed hat trimmed with feather plumes topped a head of chestnut ringlets. Venetia held a lace handkerchief to her face. "I've got to find Al!" she sobbed. "By tomorrow morning!"   
  
"Al?" asked Carmen. "Al who?"   
  
Venetia glanced at the watch on her ivory wrist. "Oh no. I'm late for my fitting!" She turned toward the door.   
  
"Wait!" called Carmen, but like a puff of smoke, the classy woman was gone. "Where do I go from here?" She glanced at her hand. In it was wedged a hundred dollar bill. "I guess I should see if anyone's reported an 'Al' missing." She opened the door.  
  
Troilus leaned in the doorway. "Going somewhere?"   
  
"Move. I'm on a case."   
  
"So what?" Troy didn't budge.  
  
"Get out of my way," Carmen said through gritted teeth.   
  
"I think you should back off the case."   
  
"But I haven't even started yet! Now move!"   
  
"Make me."   
  
"You asked for it." Carmen poked her finger into her coworker's chest.   
  
The latter sailed backwards and landed on his bottom. "Hey, that wasn't fair! Carmen? Carmen!"   
  
"Whew, glad that's over," Carmen sighed as she opened the glass door to the police station and headed toward a bulletin board. Tacked on the board were several descriptions and photographs of the people reported missing that week. Scanning the names, there was nothing that even resembled "Al." Her nose caught a whiff of thick cigar smoke. "Blech."   
  
"Looking for something?" came a deep voice.   
  
The detective spun around. A six-foot tall and about half as wide police officer stared hard at her. Clouds of fumes blew generously from his thick cigar. "You're one of those Acme sleuths, aren't you?"   
  
"Who wants to know."   
  
The cop shoved her into the wall. "Look, missy. I suggest you leave the 'Al' case to the police."   
  
Carmen pushed him back. "And if I don't..." she glanced at the nameplate. "Shanks?"   
  
"It's for your own good and mine," growled Shanks. He turned and retreated into an office, slamming the door behind him.   
  
Carmen wiped her forehead and headed out the door. The whole world suddenly went black. The last thing she heard was "You know too much about Al."   
  
***********************************************************************************************************************************************  
The world began to clear. Carmen opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a dark alley.   
  
There were footsteps that were getting fainter. The detective tiptoed toward them, out of the alley and into a street. A streetlamp illuminated the owner of the footsteps -- a man dressed in black and white.   
  
"Hold it right there!" called Carmen.   
  
The figure spun around. "Blast!" It was the same voice who had whispered "You know too much about Al." He ran toward a parked motorscooter and took off.   
  
Carmen, not one to give up easily, jumped on another one and sped after the shady character.   
  
The two motorscooters passed a squad car. Shanks nearly choked on his doughnut. "Those two are going above the speed limit!" He turned the key on the car and sped after them.   
  
Venetia Ribbons, now dressed in a lacy white gown, stepped out of a florist and headed toward her sports car. Shanks' squad car drove by her, but not before she could see the driver's profile. "Hey! Wait for me!" She slipped into her own car and joined the chase.   
  
The shady character took many twists and turns through the streets of San Francisco, nearly colliding into a cable car.   
  
Carmen checked her watch. "12:00 AM?! Miss Ribbons told me to find Al by this morning!" _I've blown it_, she thought sadly. _I've botched my first case. Inspector Jennings will discharge me, and it's back to the Golden Gate Girls' School. So much for finding my identity. _"No. I refuse to lose!" She noticed her pursuee was parking at a small chapel and hit the brakes. The tires screeched as the detective slowed to a stop.   
  
Shanks also parked his car in front of the chapel.   
  
Venetia followed suit and threw open her car door. She stepped out and stomped to the police car, then pulled open the door. "WHERE IN HEAVEN'S NAME HAVE YOU BEEN?!"   
  
Shanks rubbed his ear. "I've been busy."   
  
"THAT'S NO EXCUSE! FROM NOW ON, CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE!" Venetia grabbed the cop's ear and dragged him into the church.   
  
"Ow! Easy on the ears!"   
  
Carmen ran around the chapel and entered through a side door.   
  
"By the holy powers vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the shady character.   
  
Venetia grabbed her new husband, dipped him forward and kissed him on the lips.  
  
"I was going to say, 'You may now kiss the bride,' " snapped the minister. "Never mind. I'm off to Vegas."   
  
Carmen watched, wide-eyed.   
  
"I told you to lay off!" shouted Shanks from across the altar.   
  
Troilus joined her. "I foretold you so."   
  
"Well, how was I to know Shanks' first name?!"   
  
"Come on. Let's go to the reception. Maybe you'll catch your client's bouquet."   
  
"Sorry. That door is closed. I'm never even dating."   
  
"Never say never, Carmen."   
  
"You infuriate me."   
  
"It's a gift."   
  
The two detectives trudged toward Acme.   
  
"Why is every syllable you utter pointless?" shrieked a shrill voice.   
  
"Utterly pointless?" asked Beatrice Quack.   
  
"I can't stand it!" whined Prina Lott, the Agency's top detective.   
  
"I'm sorry, Prinella Charlotte, but I was born to speak all mirth and no matter."   
  
Prina turned red. "Don't ever call me that!" She stomped off, clenching her fists and passing Carmen.   
  
Beatrice glanced at the newcomer. "Let me guess. You just finished your first case."  
  
"Is it that obvious?"   
  
"I can always tell. You've got the look. Like a raccoon caught in a car's headlights. I've seen it a hundred times. Don't worry. Once the first case is resolved, things go a lot smoother." Beatrice smiled. "I may not be a psychic like Troilus, but I do sense things. And I sense a bright future for you."   
  
"Let's hope so," sighed Carmen.   
  
"Take my hand," whispered Beatrice. Her coworker did so. "Now repeat me after me. I am an intelligent, resilient detective, and I will let nothing fill me with anxiety."   
  
"I am an intelligent, resilient detective, and I will let nothing fill me with anxiety."   
  
_So ends this tale of a humble beginning,  
Carmen will soon taste the fruits of winning  
But that's how the story goes  
I suppose that it shows  
A bumpy road may be the start  
Of a much more abstract art_  
  
  



End file.
